Page 27 of Broken Mafia Bride

I gather the moisture seeping out of my tip and use it to lubricate my length, hand flying faster until it’s almost a blur. My hips are punching up, fucking into my fist, chasing the high. I squeeze my eyes shut, the image of her so clear in my head that she could as well be right in front of me, biting down on her lower lip and asking me if I’m close.

“Raffaele.”I hear her voice in my head, and I swear I can smell her vanilla scent.

Pleasure gathers at the base of my spine. With one last tug, it arcs through me, exploding in an orgasm that rocks me to my core, toes curling and mouth gaping open in a soundless cry.

“Giulia, Giulia, Giulia,” I chant her name as I come, a benediction on my lips.

God, I’m so fucked without her.

9

GIULIA

2years later

“I can’t find her socks,” Marco calls out from the inner room. “Are you sure they’re in the drawer?”

I give him a dry look. “I don’t know, Marco, you were laundry captain, remember? Where did you keep her socks?”

He pokes his head out the door, a sheepish smile on his face. “I think I may have misplaced them. I found one of the Barney socks—but the other’s gone.”

“Who’s going to care that she’s wearing different socks?” I laugh, tickling her tummy. “She’s a kid, she doesn’t care. She just needs her feet to be warm.”

With a sigh, he trudges back to the room. As soon as my daughter sees him, she shoots him a face-splitting smile. “Marco!”

“Hey, princess.” He smiles at her, waving the single sock in front of her. “Let’s get you suited up, shall we?”

Noemi glances down at her feet. “That don’t match.”

“Doesn’t,” I correct. “The thing is, Uncle Marco misplaced your socks, so you’re not going to match today. It can be our little secret.”

She makes a face, looking unimpressed by my explanation, and I press my mouth together to hide my smile. At just two years of age, she’s already extremely smart and almost impossible to fool. She started walking early, and by the time she turned one, she was already pointing at things, mimicking sounds, and reacting to simple instructions.

Sometimes, I catch myself wondering if I’m being cruel by depriving Raffaele of the chance to watch his daughter grow. I know that this life I’m living here is all a facade. I feel like a coward, running from everything I know.

But it’s not just me anymore.

I can’t afford to be brave and careless about Noemi’s life by barging right back into Chicago and jumping back into the thick of things. Not when I don’t know if it’s safe for us, or if we will even have a place there.

If he’s moved on, walking back into his life after all this time will be unfair. The right thing to do will be to let him be happy with whoever he’s moved on with, not appear out of thin air and destroy whatever progress he’s made. Maybe, just maybe, this is my life now—and Chicago’s just a place I used to know.

“Are you all right?” Marco’s soft question snaps me out of my thoughts.

I blink back to the present to see that he’s staring at me with open concern.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” I clear my throat. “Let’s just get her shoes on and?—”

When I turn to my daughter, I see that Marco’s already helped her into her socks and shoes. I must have tuned out for a while.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I go about packing Noemi’s lunchbox while Marco gathers her into his arms, telling her about the fish he caught last night.

“We should get some sugar from the store,” I tell him as we step out. “I want to make some cookies to serve after dinner.”

“Yay, cookies!” Noemi cries excitedly. “Is Doctor Si coming for dinner?”

I can’t help but laugh. I have no idea how my daughter ended up knowing Sienna as Doctor Si, but it’s sweet, and the two are inseparable. Which is yet another reason why returning to Chicago is a problem.

My daughter has already made connections here: Marco and Sienna’s family. They’re more or less her family now, and ripping her away from them will hurt her.